


Fleeting Moments of Happiness

by FantasyRaconteur



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 00:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyRaconteur/pseuds/FantasyRaconteur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders' thoughts on actions and consequences as he wakes up in the morning. Set in Act 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fleeting Moments of Happiness

There was a certain mesmerising beauty to this, Anders decided: the first lazy rays of the sun poking through the curtains and slightly illuminating the room; the pleasure of lying in a soft king-sized bed – the largest and, by far, the most comfortable bed Anders had slept in; and Garret draped over him instead of a blanket, sleeping deeply and peacefully, bothered by no demons in the Fade.

Justice was the only part of Anders that felt agitated. Of course, Justice was never at ease. What is peacefulness to a spirit that longed, most of all, to execute justice and vengeance on those who deserve it? However, the familiar nagging feeling of Justice’s presence in Anders’ mind was dulled now. The spirit had allowed Anders little time to rest before – much more since the time Anders had overworked himself with the manifesto and helping mages on the run, and left a panicked Justice calling to his unconscious mind after he had collapsed from exhaustion.

 _Not all of us are immortal Fade spirits that need neither sleep nor food,_ Anders had grumpily explained later, not sure whether Justice could hear him or not. It was frustrating sometimes, not being able to have a conversation with him. Dangerous and unpredictable he may be, Justice was Anders’ closest friend. Afterwards, he was seldom bothered by accusations of selfishness when he felt hungry or tired, so it was safe to say that his words had gotten through. And, though Justice disapproved of Hawke, he never expressed outright protest to their relationship, for which Anders was grateful. Most grateful for moments when he could think of nothing but how lucky he was to have a chance to hold Garret in his arms.

When he could pretend he wouldn’t have to destroy the Chantry and his death (or, rather, execution) was not fast approaching.

The damnable thought slipped into his mind once again.

Perhaps hearing the hitch in Anders’ breath or the elevation of his heartbeat, his lover awoke with a yawn and positioned himself so he was embracing Anders with his back pressed to Hawke’s chest. Pressing an affectionate kiss to the healer’s neck, he said:

‘Good morning, beautiful.’

Anders brushed a hand over his eyes. Hawke was only half-awake so he hadn’t noticed the stray tears on Anders’ face.

‘Morning,’ Anders replied, voice soft and a bit strained because of what he hoped Hawke would discern as sleepiness.

‘Leaving soon?’

Anders shook his head. It was early morning and he could allow himself a little more time to rest. Pull himself together. Justice’s unrest grew and Anders was sure that if Justice could talk to Anders he would be saying: _Do not let him find out!_

 _I won’t,_ Anders thought, picturing one of the worst-case scenarios – when Hawke, a templar-hating apostate himself, would offer to help with Anders' plan. He wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ let Garret do that. So this is a white lie, he constantly fooled himself. For Garret’s own good.

‘I love you,’ said Hawke suddenly, interrupting Anders’ thoughts.

It should have hurt, what he said, and made him feel guilty, it should have reminded him of the monster he was. However, just so, the sound of Hawke’s voice, his breath tickling Ander’s skin, the warmth of the sunlight, the realization that, today, the worst thing that could happen to Kirkwall was the destruction of the Hanged Man – all of it at once brought Anders the peace he’d been missing for a long, long time. His head cleared of worries, he forgot about Justice and he smiled, feeling warm and fuzzy like a teenager in love. He wasn’t bothered by the cruelty of the world anymore, if only for a little while.

He never could think up the overly sophisticated, teasing replies to serious and emotional words like Hawke could, so he answered simply:

‘I love you too.’


End file.
